


A Stranger Rides Into Town

by BlackTieCasual



Series: Small Town Overwatch [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Truckers, Alternate Universe - Western, Angst and Romance, Awkward Romance, Break Up, Butch/Femme, Canon LGBTQ Character, Deadlock Gang, Deadlock Jesse McCree, Eventual Romance, F/F, Female Characters, Female Protagonist, Female-Centric, Femslash, Fluff and Smut, Gang Violence, Gangs, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, No Lesbians Die, POV Female Character, POV Lesbian Character, Post-Break Up, Romance, Size Difference, Small Towns, Smut, Truckers, setting western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackTieCasual/pseuds/BlackTieCasual
Summary: Amelie LaCroix, owner of the Panorama Diner, finds herself falling head-over-heels for Aleks Zaryanova, a muscular trucker with a myserious past! Will the French femme have time to make things official with her new lover before she has to leave Deadlock Gorge?
Relationships: Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix/Aleksandra "Zarya" Zaryanova
Series: Small Town Overwatch [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119383
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Have you ever found yourself ‘stuck’ in a moment? Not in a way where everything freezes in one picture-perfect instant, but in a way that lingers on after the world has left it behind. Lately I’ll find myself doing something mundane, and for just a second I’ll be standing behind the counter of that old diner in Deadlock Gorge. Earlier today I was tidying up for when you get back from your latest delivery, and as I set a plate on the counter to dry, I was serving Jesse McCree that piece of cherry pie. Next thing I knew, as startling as it always is, I heard the unmistakable BANG of his six-shooter going off. He had been showing it off, and when I was done recoiling and checking myself for bullet holes, I locked eyes with him.

By the time he had gotten his hands on a gun he had become a regular at the Panorama Diner. Every few days he would come in, sometimes a couple of members of the Deadlock Gang would accompany him. Just a few years prior he had rolled into town with a goofy grin and a pair of puppy-dog eyes, talking about how he was rambling through the West because he had no home and was a lone wolf. I knew there must have been something sinister behind that, and I’ll always have empathy for those who find themselves without parents. I kept him close at first, but it didn’t take long for the Deadlock Gang to get their hands on him, and soon enough he was talking about what a killer he was. I tried not to hear it, knowing myself that if he kept up with the gang it would only be a matter of time before he actually ended up doing someone in. The gun was a new addition, probably by another member who wanted to train him to shoot. I figured that the next time he fired his gun, it would be intentional, and it would be pointed at somebody who got too tough for the scrawny little tumbleweed to handle.

“Jesse! I want you out of my shop, and I need you to stay gone until you’re out of that horrible little band of misfits!” It was the harshest I had ever been with that boy. His eyes went wide, chest heaving as he holstered his gun and gulped up breaths. I could tell he was trying to assess the damage, trying to see if he had hurt or killed somebody. My heart nearly stopped when I traced the line of fire and found that it went right through the wall at the level of my hip. It would have wound up in the kitchen, where my cook Hana ha been working. By the time I fixed my gaze back on him, Jesse was already scrambling for the door. I couldn’t see his face, but I could guess that he was crying as he went barreling through the entrance.  
The restaurant was quiet, despite the fair lunch crowd. I think that it may have been my outburst more than the gunshot, considering I was never one to show very much emotion in my face or voice. Something had happened with me when I was younger, and the people who knew me at the time liked to say that it broke me. There as that empathy creeping in again as I remembered my own time wrapped up in an old gang that had since fallen apart.

Hana had taken cover in the back corner of the kitchen, and as I entered she launched herself towards the rear entrance. I let her make her way outside while calling out for her in my low, neutral voice. By the time I got outside she was breathing deeply, already scanning me for any sign of injury. I told her about what happened and tried to let her off for the night, but she refused and convinced me to let her help clean up. I thanked her, and let her know that she could leave any time she wanted.  
Jesse had shot a hole in one of my grills and grease was leaking out onto the gray cement floor. By the time I had gone around and let everyone know that their meals were on the house Hana was already directing the grease and oil towards a drain in the center of the room. She was like me in that she was a survivor and in that a lot of people thought she was a bitch because of it. She was close-off emotionally, only really emoting during intimate moments of gossip or when serving a customer. I got down beside her and helped.

“I told him he’s not allowed back until he cuts ties with that silly old gang,” I said, trying to reassure her of her safety. The gang had been getting gustier lately in claiming its territory, a dying town with less and less traffic coming through. It was the way they secured their garage as the only place nearby where a trucker could get their cab serviced.

“Yeah, well… You know it doesn’t matter so much to him, Amelie. He’ll probably try to come back anyway, and he doesn’t need to be in a gang to be dangerous. I was cruising with a friend when I was his age, and we swerved this nice old convertible off the road. The damn thing rolled onto its back when we hit the dirt, I was lucky my friend and I didn’t die then and there.” She huffed, furrowing her brow and playing the moment over again in her mind. I just watched as she shut down for a moment, knowing better than to wake a sleepwalker.

I called the company that distributed those big industrial grills that night, and they said that if I was willing to pay an advanced-delivery fee, I could have one included in a shipment that would arrive the next morning. Given what followed, I think that may have been the best decision I’ve ever made.


	2. Chapter 2

I was tired that morning, having stayed late at the diner alone the previous night to clean up Jesse’s mess. I almost fell asleep during some pre-open cleaning, but I was woken up by the rumbling entrance of your 18-wheeler. The sight of your bright pink hair crowned in the bright amber light of sunrise was almost too much for someone as disoriented as I was, stumbling out behind the diner to meet you. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from those gigantic treetrunk thighs as you stepped down from the bestial machine. It was still huffing smog out into the air, threatening to roar if provoked. It had been a long time since I had seen someone as gorgeous as you in person.

You asked me what my name was, and if I ran the diner. I was so shocked that, I almost forgot the answer. What a funny image, tripping over my words as I explained how to pronounce my name, and that it’s French. How comforting it can be to remember that you were a stranger once. I can find a home in the memory of explaining that it was ‘Luh-kwah, not LaCroy,’ and I can burrow deep inside and curl up there. First meetings have always been, in my experience, the nicest parts of my life.

“Wow, that’s quite the name!” Your bright green eyes perked up as you smiled, your deep alto voice jumping a bit as you held out a hand as big as my head. I tried not to be intimidated while shaking it, but my whole body moved as you did. Feeling that power so early in the morning gave me that familiar shiver, the kind that runs up your spine and tries to get your whole frame to tremble. I could tell I was getting warmer, especially since I had been going through a dry spell. I had a falling out with the only other out lesbian in town months ago, terminating our friends-with-benefits shtick.  
As soon as I was certain I couldn’t keep up any more small talk, I signed my name and watched you stomp your way to the back of the trailer. Rounding the corner just after you, I could barely believe what I was seeing. There you were, grasping the grill at each end and lifting it up with those hulking arms of yours. You barely broke a sweat as I directed you into the spot where the grill belonged, setting it down as delicately as you might set a glass vase down onto a countertop. It had taken me most of yesterday to move the grill out to the area beside the trash, with the help of Hana and a pallet-jack. Here you were, impossibly strong and seemingly twice as large as me, handling the same model with the grace of a ballerina. I was floored.

You were smiling again by the time you were done setting it down, grabbing a napkin from your pocket and wiping a small bit of sweat from your brow. What a fucking workhorse, flexing your toned muscles idly without posing. I’m certain you knew that I had my eyes on your arms, and that my gaze was traveling to the wings of your baby-blue sports bra. You were built like a tank. Part of me was already desperate to feel that strength, the weight of your body against mine as I submitted.  
That was my downfall, between the sexual frustration and the lust sat something a bit more genuine: it had been so long since I last met someone who impressed me. There were mundane feats that I appreciated fine(usually from Hana, who wasn’t in that day), but this was a physique that I had only ever seen in movies, and never on a woman. I started wondering, in the way that you do when lust rises from your heart to your brain. Was this giantess a lesbian? Bisexual? Was the performance a hint, or did she just know how amazing she was? Did the short, pink hair really mean as much as I wanted it to? The cut jaw? The outfit? These are questions you can’t ask, but which need answers.

And just like that, as if some sort of sign were being thrust upon me, you leaned against the wall and crossed those toned arms and let me know that you would be in town. I was surprised to learn that I was something of an anomaly myself.

“It’s not often people are willing to pay for advanced shipping on something like this. You’ve actually got me in town early, so I’ll be around for the next few days before I need to head off and complete the rest of this shipment. Maybe we could find the time to do something together, if you’re willing to show me around.” Your deep voice was the last straw, I was smitten instantly. This invitation had to be it, the chance to be with you if not sexually, then romantically. I gave you directions to The Cave Inn, a little hotel just down the road with barely any rooms. I can remember apologizing as I saw you off, warning you about the quality of the service there.

Truth be told, that’s where Lena worked, the last woman I had been with. I could only guess she would try and lure you in, and then I would never have you. As I saw you drive off to the local depot, where all the truckers parked their shipments, I felt a pang of fear deep in my stomach, as if it were the last time I might ever see you, or anyone like you.

That was the same night I closed up shop and went home, only to find that on the way there I felt like I was being watched, as if a moment of pure ecstasy had to be followed by either horror or guilt. I could swear as I drove my old junker down Route 66 that someone was tailing me. Every so often I could hear the rumble of a chopper’s engine, or see a flash of white hair in my rearview. I wouldn’t know it until later, but someone was tailing me, and they were smart enough to know how to hide themselves. I had a hard time sleeping that night, between the thoughts of you and the strange feeling that someone cloaked in the dark of the night may have been keeping tabs on me even then.


	3. Chapter 3

Imagine my shock when you sauntered into the diner the next morning, wearing those tight leather pants, jacket over a plain white undershirt. God, what a mess you made me as you sat down at the counter and flashed that gorgeous smile. There’s something dangerous about beautiful people that makes me feel all sorts of jealous, and I had it worse than ever watching you sip your coffee and run your eyes over me. I cherished the potency of your poison as I leaned in close and asked if you were going to have anything to eat that morning, and I relished the response.

“Not today, I’m just going to have another cup of this and then I’ll tell you a secret.” I must have looked like I was burning up as you handed me the empty mug, my calm face blushing without a hint of emotion as I asked you what it was you could have meant. If only you could have told me then and there that you would have me, that I could feel those strong hands over my body, pressing against my olive skin and tangling in my long black hair.

“Well, I forgot to tell you my name yesterday, and I figured I should let you know just in case you wanted to give me a tour of the place: it's Aleks Zaryanova.”

My heart almost leapt out of my chest. Whatever I may have been hesitant to assume before had just been affirmed to me in the best of ways: a request for a date. I remember it felt like hours, but only seconds passed as I thought about where I would like to take you. Deadlock Gorge was a small place, with only one real attraction of note.

“If you want a tour, there’s this dinky little tourist trap just down the road, by the garage. You must have seen the sign for it on your way to the depot, ‘The Cave of Mystery’. It’s an alright place if you’ve never been. Aside from that we have a saloon out by The Cave Inn, it’s called The High Side.” I tried my best to put on that calm, knowledgeable appearance, like I might turn out to be an East-Coast socialite in some Glitchbot film. I doubt I came off as graceful as I wanted, but you’ve told me since that you like the way I falter around you.

That was when you reminded me that you still had a couple of days before you had to leave. It was also when you let it slip that you would rather spend the night drinking with me at The High Side than visiting some hokey little roadside attraction. I could barely handle myself, staring into your beautiful eyes and thinking about how nice it would feel to be yours. You said it was nice to see me smile for once, and I realized again that I hadn’t been as expressive as I wanted to be.  
Hana noticed the difference in my attitude for the rest of the day, saying that it was nice to hear me smile for once while we worked. She had been pretty anti-work up until that point, but she seemed to enjoy this most recent development, telling me about how she was going to have to start some new gossip in the gorge about how somebody had fixed my bitchy demeanor. As we closed up shop that night I told her about the previous night, the hints of someone watching me as I made my way home. She joked that it was probably just paranoia, citing that sometimes people who aren’t used to being happy find themselves feeling guilty about it when they do.

As I locked up and walked Hana to her car, she opened up to me about how nice it was that I was smiling since the incident with Lena. I stopped dead in my tracks, eyes narrowing a bit as I made an inconvenient connection. I had spoken with her before about having problems with an ex, but I had never told her who. As far as I knew, she didn’t even know I was a lesbian. As happy as I was that she was opening up to me so casually, I was worried about what it might mean.  
Trying my best to remain unfazed, I opened the door for her, and watched as she pulled off down the road in the direction of The Cave Inn, instead of the town a few miles out. My heart sank as I realized that word was getting out, and how.


	4. Chapter 4

I freaked out that night, completely forgetting at all about feelings of being watched or pursued. As soon as I was home from the diner I threw on dress after dress, trying to measure on some invisible metric which one would be the best fit for a first date with a woman I was growing more and more desperate for. Eventually I settled for something black, low-cut with barely enough fabric to end just above my knees. Hose, cute flats, lavender eyeshadow, and I was off. It’s always hard to find a balance between rushing yourself and searching for perfection. If only I knew how to give myself enough time, if only I knew how not to overthink.

I sped to the diner with no feeling of surveillance or threat. As soon as I was parked, I hopped out with my little purple purse and rushed in. Seeing you dressed in the same clothed I had first seen you in nearly killed me. Knowing you now, I can only imagine they hadn’t been washed. You looked tired, as if you had just worked out. Your face fell a little as I approached, that bright smile wavering a bit in what I assume was self-conscious doubt. God it was awkward for the first little bit, with me asking dumbly what it was truckers did for fun, and about your past. I was afraid I had killed the mood when you let me know that your parents had thrown you out, coming from a little Russian village that remained untouched by any sense of modernity. I felt worse than I ever had when I watched that reminiscent look rush across your face. I know what it’s like to yearn for lost innocence, what it’s like not to know that the abandonment was all but inevitable.

We were able to salvage it from there, though. It seems like sometimes lust is the only thing pulling a beautiful relationship out of a rocky start. There’s a beauty in that compromise, though. Eventually, we got used to each other and stopped trying so hard.

That night was magical, slammed against the wall of your apartment while those strong, rough hands ran over the smooth skin of my hips, reaching down and teasing my pubic hair. Watching those hungry eyes take me in as you pressed your wand against me, it seemed as strong as you did, and it wasn’t long before I found myself losing to ecstasy and lust. And again. And again, sore and exhausted with you grunting and growling against my wet, desperate face.

What more is there to say about those gigantic fingers, securing their way around my throat as I gasped for breath and writhed against your thigh? What more is there to say about the way I was afraid you might just break me with a spank or a slap? What does it say that I enjoyed it so rough, and that you gave it to me without me asking? What romance did I find in your familiar danger?

Ask me the next time you leave me heaving and screaming, panting with you inside me and against me, threatening never to let me go. That night was the last night I had any sort of doubt as to what we had. We fell as hard as we fucked, and the love left me just as tired and in need of care as the lust.


End file.
